


all the way home I'll be warm

by carrieevew



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Post-Mount Weather, Snowball Fight, The 100 (TV) Season 3 AU, first snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:29:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28416153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrieevew/pseuds/carrieevew
Summary: Bellamy makes it his mission to help Clarke have a good first Christmas on the ground when she decides to stay after Mount Weather.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 12
Kudos: 87
Collections: The t100 Writers for BLM Initiative





	all the way home I'll be warm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sixofclarkes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixofclarkes/gifts).



> written for a prompt submitted through the t100 fic for Black Lives Matter initiative. for more information about the project, visit [our carrd](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/) or [our tumblr](https://t100fic-for-blm.tumblr.com/).
> 
> title from [Let it Snow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l5zweUZqC8Q).
> 
> hope you had a wonderful holiday and a happy new year!  
> enjoy!

The first snow came with two broken ankles, three cracked ribs and a chipped tooth.

When Bellamy got to the med bay that evening, he found Clarke elbow-deep in bandages and some plaster-like concoction that Monty had cooked up for them to take care of broken bones.

She smiled weakly from where she was bent over the supplies, rearranging them before she finished her shift and left for the night. Bellamy raised his arms up to show her the two serving of food he’d brought with him and wordlessly walked out of the side door, knowing full well that Clarke’d follow as soon as she could.

And sure enough, he barely even had the time to set at all up on the rickety table they’d dragged onto the observation deck, when Clarke emerged from the doorway, carrying two cups of tea.

It became their little unspoken routine shortly after they returned from Mount Weather and Bellamy realised that Clarke was practically hiding from everyone.

For the first few days it was so hectic back in Camp Jaha that he barely even had the chance to take a breath and change out of the uniform he’d worn on the way back—much less notice that Clarke seemed to disappear from sight the moment her official duties ended and she was granted a moment to herself.

His first instinct was to panic, obviously. First that something had happened, then that she decided to leave after all; but when things calmed down and everyone settled into some semblance of a quiet life, Bellamy finally realised that Clarke simply chose not to participate.

It took him all that much longer to figure it out, once he noticed that somehow, he seemed to be one of the very few people Clarke wasn’t avoiding.

Still, she disappeared from the mess hall the second she’d been given her meal, she never stayed around the campfires in the evening and he’d never once seen her even look in the direction of the newly built bar in one of the old docking bays.

It wasn’t until a couple of days later that he’d found her during one of his guard’s shifts. He’d just finished a round of patrol on the wall when a flash of blond hair somewhere on the Ark’s upper levels caught his attention. He watched for a few moments as she climbed an old staircase all the way to what used to be an observation deck and settled there for a while. Truth be told, it was quite a feat he even saw her there. Handing over the far end of the camp and facing the forest, the deck was not easy to access and so far away from any communal spaces that no-one ever went there. Or so he thought.

Once his shift was over and Bellamy made sure Clarke hadn’t left, he went after her, expecting—well, he wasn’t sure what.

He knew Clarke was having a hard time dealing with what happened, if only because he wasn’t doing much better and from the few conversations the two of them had, he figured out she preferred to be alone. Still, he couldn’t help himself and climbed up to the deck, fully prepared to be told off.

Clarke looked visibly surprised to be found out but relaxed when she saw who he was.

“Seems a little early for stargazing,” Bellamy started and noted with satisfaction the small smile the blossomed on her lips.

“Probably why no one comes here and I can be alone,” she said, looking somewhere above his head. Bellamy stiffened immediately.

“I can leave, if—“

Clarke shook her head lightly and looked him in the eye. “No, it’s okay,” she answered, scooting sideways to make room for him. Something warm nestled deep inside his chest at the thought even overwhelmed, Clarke still wanted him around.

Bellamy sat down next to her and eagerly accepted when she shared what was left of her dinner, not stupid enough to decline when both of them could hear his stomach rumbling.

The next day, he caught up to Clarke when she was leaving the mess hall and they both took their food to the deck, where they ate it in silence and then spent the rest of the evening talking about how their day went.

And then the next day, and the next, and before Bellamy knew it, summer turned to autumn, then the days started getting colder and colder until this morning, they all woke up to Arkadia (a name that somehow won the popular vote, though it sounded a little on the nose to him) covered in snow.

Clarke sat down in one of the chairs they’d brought in alongside the table, shivering in her thin jacket. Bellamy looked at her sideways, one eyebrow cocked. It’s not like he hadn’t told her that she should probably think of wearing something warmer.

Clarke just waved him off and put her hand out for one of the bowls. Bellamy handed it over and for a few minutes, it was quiet, save for the sounds of them devouring the warm stew.

Once she finished eating, Clarke took the tea cup and leaned back in the chair, looking ahead with a serene expression on her face. The last few months, things got better for the both of them. They talked, cried and stayed silent together about what happened, and it helped. Granted, it wasn’t perfect—Jasper still refused to talk to either one of them and when a group of grounders came to trade a few weeks back, bringing with them the Wanheda name, Clarke nearly shut down on him, but they were better. Each and every day a little bit better.

A strong gust of wind blew past them and nearly knocked the stew bowl out of Bellamy’s hands. He swore under his breath and grimaced, hearing Clarke’s snicker.

“Maybe we really should find a different spot,” Clarke said quietly, looking at her hands. Bellamy proposed that idea a while back, when it first started to get nippy but he wasn’t surprised when she didn’t jump on the idea. For all that they both found their way back into the community, this was still their little safe haven, no matter how rusty and exposed to the elements.

Bellamy studied her for a moment. She looked unhappy about the prospect but he knew she’d agree if he insisted. Which was why he didn’t.

“Or maybe just listen to me next time and put on something warmer,” Bellamy teased. Clarke threw a rude gesture back at him but she was smiling and that was all that mattered.

Clarke drank her tea and hummed.

“Merry Christmas, by the way,” she said with another small smiled.

“What?” Bellamy asked from above his bowl, eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.

“Christmas, Bellamy,” Clarke gave him an unimpressed look. “An old world religious holiday, celebrated in winter—“

“I know what _Christmas_ is, princess,” he grumbled, putting his bowl away. Clarke was grinning then and he couldn’t keep his annoyance up for much longer. “I just didn’t realise it was today.”

“Yeah, me neither. But I was going through some old records this morning and saw a calendar, and it just clicked,” Clarke explained. “I wonder what that was like.”

Bellamy frowned. “Celebrating?” he asked and Clarke hummed in confirmation.

“All I know about it comes from old movies and it looked—happy, I guess,” she said, sounding a little wistful.

Bellamy nodded his head, thinking about what he knew about the holiday, all those family stories his mother used to tell him when he and Octavia were little. He could never tell if those were real traditions and customs his ancestors observed back on the ground or if his mother was just retelling the same movies that Clarke would eventually watch but back then, it didn’t matter. All he cared about was the image of massive dinners, decorated trees and presents that his mother’s stories painted in his head.

“We used to have this ornament,” he confessed, picking up his now lukewarm cup of tea. “It was a paper angel and I don’t know if it was because of how old it was or it was just like that but damn, it was _ugly._ ” He huffed a chuckle and shot a look at Clarke who was listening to him with rapt attention.

“Just imagine how shit it must’ve been that when my mother tried to sell at the market, no-one wanted it—an old world relic,” he teased but his voice felt a little strained and he could see in Clarke’s eyes the understanding of the situation. Having two kids to raise on her own was so hard on his mother that she found herself forced to try and sell the one family heirloom. Still, the memory didn’t sting quite as much as Bellamy expected it to. Instead, he found himself thinking about all those Christmas stories and how much he wished he could show it all to Clarke.

***

The snow was there to stay, it seemed. After a week of the same weather, Arkadia was nearly entirely covered and everyone had started to get used to it.

It was a frosty but sunny morning nearly two weeks after their conversation, when Bellamy and Clarke were walking back from one of the council meetings and they stumbled right in the middle of a fierce snowball fight behind the shower shed. It seemed that all the kids decided to ignore school in favour of the battle because there was a swarm of them, hiding behind whatever cover they could find, either solo or in small, conspiring groups.

Clarke yelped when one of the wayward projectiles flew right past her and Bellamy just could help himself. His laughter brought a mischievous grin to her face.

“Do not test me, Blake,” Clarke said with warning, when she saw him step away from her and bend down.

Before she could say anything else, Bellamy had already formed a small ball and was aiming it at her.

“Bellamy,” she warned again, only this time she was grinning herself.

Clarke started retreating, looking left and right for cover but Bellamy didn’t give her a chance to hide. He threw the ball at her, just hard enough for it to hit her shoulder and explode in a flurry of snowflakes. An inhuman sound escaped Clarke and she froze in shock for a moment, the expression on her face bringing a silly smile to Bellamy’s lips.

She didn’t linger for much longer, though. Clarke shook herself off and reach for one of the snow piles at the side of the tract. She picked up two fistfuls of snow and chased after him, her speed distracting Bellamy for long enough that she was able to reach him and throw the snow straight into his face.

Sputtering, Bellamy let out a gasp. Clarke was still at his side, laughing her heart out.

Rookie mistake.

Without preamble, Bellamy put his arms around Clarke’s waist and picked her up, her feet dangling above the ground as she stirred, trying to get away. Bellamy stopped moving for a moment, looking for any sign of actual distress but when he realised she was still laughing, he started moving again, carrying her towards the same pile where she’d found her ammunition.

He dropped Clarke into the snow unceremoniously and her shriek could undoubtedly be heard all throughout the camp. Not willing to repeat her mistake, Bellamy skipped away from her and jogged towards the shower shed, where some of the kids were hiding.

“Come on, troops,” he commanded with faux-serious expression. “We must defend ourselves against the oncoming danger!”

Bellamy waved his hand towards Clarke, now advancing on him with a determined look on her face. Picking up on the opportunity, the kids on her side of the yard joined up with her and soon, he and his side had been attacked by a horde of screaming fighters, ordered around by Clarke.

And before he knew it, the fight had escalated so much that even some of the delinquents joined in, either joining up with Clarke or forming their own alliances. In either case, they all turned on him, pulling in the traitors from his own side. In a blink of an eye, he was covered in snow from head to toe and he could feel ice slide into places where it definitely shouldn’t be. Not to mention, he was completely pinned down.

Taking note of his situation, Clarke halted the offence. With one hand wrapped around a ball of snow and the other resting on her hip, she stepped in front of everyone. Bellamy raised his hands with a solemn expression on his face, his shoulders shaking from barely contained laughter.

“Do you give up, Bellamy Blake, and admit our supremacy?” she asked loudly, a cheer erupting from the group behind her.

Bellamy snorted but nodded his head. “I do concede, I have been bested.”

The crowd cheered louder but it only lasted for a short moment because soon, the mess hall bell rang, announcing lunch and everyone dispersed to change before the meal. Only Clarke stayed behind, a triumphant smile on her face.

“You should know better than to mess with me,” she gloated, knocking her elbow against his.

Bellamy shook his head, freezing cold water spraying around and judging by the small yelp, hitting Clarke as well. He smirked at her but his teeth were chattering so hard that it probably looked a little pathetic. Not that he cared, he had never been able to keep his cool around Clarke before—why would he start now.

Clarke looked him over, her brow furrowed lightly.

“Come on,” she said decisively. She hooked her arm around his elbow and led him towards the living quarters. “You better change into something dry before you freeze all your best bits off.”

Promptly, Bellamy stumbled over his own feet.

***

Later that day, when Bellamy’s afternoon shift ended and he left the weapons’ shed, ready to call it a day, he found Clarke waiting for him near the guards’ station, a bottle in one of her hands.

“I come bearing gifts, as a gracious victor,” she said with a smile, lifting the bottle. The clear liquid sloshed around inside and Bellamy recognised the markings on the bottle, distinguishing different batches of Monty’s moonshine. This one was one of his latest experiments, with slightly less kick but a sweet, fruity flavour instead. Among these parts, it was practically a delicacy.

“Truly, I do not deserve your kindness,” he teased but joined her without a second thought. “I must say, the speed with which you managed to turn everyone against me was impressive.”

Clarke snorted, slapping one of her hands over her mouth. She shot him an amused glance that Bellamy couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“I think they would’ve been more loyal if you weren’t so big on dealing out latrine duty for every minor infraction.”

Bellamy let out a full belly laughter and in the corner of his eye, he saw that it brought a pleased expression to Clarke’s face. It was but a fleeting one and she soon went back to the cocky grin but he saw it.

They walked towards the observation deck when a sound of loud laughter reached them. Clarke looked towards the source of the sound, where the fire pits were burning and most of the people who weren’t on shift had gathered. Bellamy noticed a longing in her eyes but it disappeared just as quickly as the previous satisfaction did.

Bellamy knew that even after all this time, Clarke still didn’t feel comfortable enough joining that crowd on her own and he never pushed her to go with him. Truth be told, he’d much rather spend his free time with just her but their circumstances were different. Because most of the grounders still saw her as the leader of the Sky People, she’d been involved in all the negotiations and there were still some of the old Arkers who refused to understand that Clarke was personally responsible for keeping them safe from the commander and accept that a former convicted traitor could possibly hold any power.

Meanwhile he, as a high ranking member of the guard, somehow managed to earn their respect. They weren’t the kind of people he ever wished to be around—either up in space or down on the ground, but he could tell that sometimes, Clarke wanted to join them. Just to feel included. But again, she didn’t push, either.

Tonight was different, though. Thanks to his intimate knowing of most of the schedules around Arkadia, Bellamy knew that it would mostly be a younger crowd.

Without thinking, he grabbed Clarke’s hand and started leading her towards the people.

Clarke frowned.

“Do you trust me?” he asked with a smile and immediately, her expression cleared.

“Should I?” she asked, tilting her head sideways; but she followed him nonetheless.

Clarke slowed her step when they reached the fire pits and she could see the large crowd gathered there, all those people laughing and screaming. Bellamy squeezed her fingers in reassurance and led her to one of the benches lining the back of the yard, a little way from everyone.

He could feel some of them boring holes into the back of their heads but mostly people ignored them and Bellamy breathed a little easier when Clarke sat down on the bench with a sigh. She relaxed when he took a seat next to her and she handed him the bottle for tasting.

This far away from the fire it was actually pretty cold this late in the evening, so if Bellamy shifted closer to Clarke and moved his arm around her shoulders to keep them both warm, who could really blame him.

***

A few days later, Bellamy learnt that Clarke had been scheduled for several night shift at the med bay on the trot, when Jackson came down with a cold, leaving them short-staffed. Bellamy figured it was the perfect opportunity for him to take care of his new idea.

For the next few mornings, he brought the breakfast to Clarke as she came off of her shift and escorted her back to her room. With the med bay full of bed-ridden people dealing with winter-time diseases for the first time, she was so dead on her feet that she hadn’t even realised that she was practically falling asleep on her shoulder on the way.

As much as it pained Bellamy to see Clarke so exhausted, at least she was too distracted to ask questions. And with Wick’s help, Bellamy was able to finish his project on time for Clarke to finish her last night shift for a while. And just as he’d expected, the moment he left the wall at the end of his own work day, he’d found her waiting for him with two plates of deer jerky and pickles.

She was bundled in so many layers that he barely even recognised her—if it wasn’t for the hat-and-scarf combo she’d knitted for herself a few weeks before, determined to master the skill after Arkadia traded for some yarn at the beginning of winter. She’d been the only one willing to use the bright orange thread and thus ended with the fluffiest hat and the longest scarf in the camp—both of which she wore proudly.

Bellamy smiled when he reached her, taking one of the plates from her already, knowing what he had in mind.

They walked to the observation deck in silence, momentarily too preoccupied trying to avoid any ice patches on the way to held any conversation.

When they reached the rickety staircase, Bellamy sped up in order to overtake Clarke on the way and bar the entrance. Clarke stopped mid-step, confusion painting her features. Even from underneath the hem of her hat, he could see her eyebrows shooting up.

“Do me a favour,” he said, taking a couple of steps. He extended his hand for her to take and when she did, still utterly bewildered, he added “close your eyes.”

Clarke took a breath, looking at him, but a small, curious smile made its way onto her lips. She shut her eyes shaking her head lightly.

It took them twice as long to reach the deck, both with Bellamy leading them up carefully and him constantly checking if she wasn’t looking but finally, they made it.

He took both their plates and put them away, exhaling. He looked around, suddenly nervous.

It was all—a lot. But they were there already, so what the hell.

“Open your eyes,” he instructed in a whisper.

Clarke followed his lead and her gaze immediately landed on him, still confused. And then, he could very clearly see the moment she noticed everything else.

The small wooden table and two sturdy chairs in corner, with two blankets folded neatly, resting on top of the table. The reinforced metal bars and a couple of old paraffin lamp hanging from them. The canopy spread over what was left of the rafters, creating a makeshift roof over their heads.

Clarke’s eyes widened as she took it all in.

“Did you do this?” she gasped, incredulous. She was blinking quickly and for a moment, Bellamy grew self-conscious. He shifted his weight, thinking that maybe this was too much, that Clarke would rather prefer to keep this space as it was before.

But he’d done it already, so there was no point in denying it.

“A belated Christmas present, if you wish,” he said, nodding his head.

Clarke inhaled a quick, ragged breath through her nose and before he could even react, she threw herself into his arms. Her hands wrapped themselves around his neck, her faced tucked into the collar of his jacket and the momentum with which she crashed into him nearly knocked him off his feet.

Just like it did all those months ago, the hug took him by surprise and he needed a second to wrap his head around what was going on—and then he brought his arms around her shoulders, bringing her even closed.

“Thank you,” Clarke murmured into his neck and he more felt than heard it, her warm breath tickling his sensitive skin. It sent a chill down his spine.

“You’re welcome, princess.” He smiled into her hat, the wool soft against his cheek.

And this time, his sister wasn’t there to bring them back to reality. There were no urgent questions that needed to be asked, no tasks waiting to be completed. They stood like that, wrapped in each other for so long that Bellamy completely lost the track of time, the only sign that they weren’t just frozen in time being Clarke’s fingers that occasionally tightened against the back of his neck, his curls tangled around them.

A crazy thought popped into his head, about how easy it would be to move his head just a little bit and kiss her. How he could wrap his arms around her waist and lift her so that their faces would be on the same level and he could look her in the eyes and say all those things that he’d been thinking of— _dreaming_ —ever since she’s agreed to stay with him in Arkadia.

But he decided against it. Doing any of that meant he’d have to move, let go of her even for a second and in that moment, it seemed unthinkable.

Besides, neither one of them was going anywhere. They had time.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked this! thank you so very much for reading. comments and kudos will be welcomed like manna ;-)  
> come and find me on tumblr @[carrieeve](https://carrieeve.tumblr.com).


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